Walking In Someone Else’s Heels
by Serendipity1
Summary: Integra decides to clear up a few things about her gender identity to her troops.


**Title**: Walking In Someone Else's Heels

**Author**: Serendipity

**Summary**: Integra decides to clear upa few things about her gender identity to her troops.

**Disclaimer**: Hellsing, Integra, and evening dresses. None of them belong to me.

* * *

It was early morning. In fact, it was so early in the morning that it possibly could have been considered very, very late at night indeed. A few confused and perhaps jet-lagged pigeons cooed in the vicinity of the wall. Yes, there was a wall. It was currently attached to the building for training facilities, which happened to lie inside a compound which was, incidentally, part of the Hellsing estate. 

A passing tourist would have been surprised to see an army of considerable size standing at attention in a bunch of neat groups in front of the training facilities, helmets polished, uniforms pressed, and boots a uniform and unnatural shiny black.

Into this dignified and certainly quite macho atmosphere stepped a young, blonde woman.

She was clad in an evening gown. With gloves. And elaborately detailed heels. And perfectly applied make-up. And a rather fetching ermine stole and matching purse.

She also carried a rifle and was glaring rather forbiddingly at the troops, who saluted in a confused way at her arrival.

Integra Wingates Hellsing surveyed her men. "Gentlemen," she began, tapping her pink-polished fingers almost threateningly against the rifle in her hands, "I have heard an interesting rumor going about in the troops."

A certain atmosphere of nervous apprehension began to build

"Apparently, some of the fine young men in The Hellsing Organization seem to think that since I run the family organization with competence and have not yet married, and since I wear tailored business suits and smoke cigars, I have the strange desire to become male. How very amusing, gentlemen." She fiddled in her purse, withdrew a cigar and lighter, and spent a few minutes in quiet and smoke-filled thought.

Silence, awkward, dread-filled, persistent silence filled the courtyard as the troops watched the smoke trail from the end of Integra's manly cigar.

Finally, she took the cigar out, and tapped ash onto the ground. "I'm sure we are all reasonable adults," she started.

The men all tried to look as reasonable and adult as possible.

"For instance, I'm sure most of you are aware that my suit is a ladies' suit, as you can tell by the design of the jacket. I'm sure that you are also aware that, lovely as most dresses are, they are completely unsuitable for a combat situation, and I am unfortunately in those situations more than I would plan for. Therefore, I can not wear those ankle-breaking heels that you find so attractive. I understand that the majority of you must realize that an evening gown is inappropriate for a conference about important matters of state. I'm _sure_ a great deal of you realize that I prefer cigars to those horrible, long cigarettes that women in high-slitted gowns insist on carrying."

There was a general murmur of assent as the troops shifted in apprehension. Integra seemed to be rather too calm about this. They all waited for the other high-heeled shoe to drop.

Not one to let them down, Integra continued. "Of course," she added in the same composed, businesslike tone, "There seem to be a sufficient amount of people here who seem to think otherwise. Of course, I could discuss this matter at length with you lot all day. However, I am aware that you have a busy day of training ahead of you. Also, I have been informed that simply talking to you would not accomplish much. Therefore, I have planned some hands-on training for all of you. Walter, if you would be so kind?"

A large crate on wheels, apparently being pushed by Walter, rolled its way over and came to a wobbly stop next to Integra. Loud creaking noises were heard.

The brave, fierce members of the Hellsing Organization, used to fighting vampires and armies of ghouls and freaks, felt a sudden and inexplicable chill of terror.

A few moments later their fears were justified as Walter emerged from the back of the crate, holding what looked to be a very large wad of pale green tulle and satin. He seemed to be straining a lot of facial muscles to keep from grinning.

"Very good, Walter." Integra said. "Gentleman, your assignment today is this: you will all queue up for your feminine apparel, put it on, and go through your training schedule as usual. You will not be allowed to alter the clothing in any way, or engage in any behavior that seems unfeminine. You are not to hike up your skirts too high as you run, you are not to belch, you are not to curse, and you are not to smoke cigars and drink beer. Instead, you will be drinking champagne from fluted glasses and will have the option of not smoking or having ladylike cigarettes instead. The uniform today is this: one evening dress, one pair of heels, and a necklace, bracelet, and earring set. They have all been tailored to fit."

She paused to remove something silvery and small from her purse. "Also, you will not be permitted to use your rifles today. All of you will be issued a single pistol. You can tell it is a ladylike pistol because of the mother of pearl trimmings." Integra smiled. A very smug smile that spoke volumes about their chances of getting out of this 'assignment'.

"Once you have completed your training, you are all to think long and hard about the merits, or lack thereof, of striving to be feminine while in a time of war. If you should have any questions, do feel free to ask them."

No one spoke. Everyone was too busy staring dumbly at the lump of frilly fabric in Walter's arms.

"Then I will leave you in the excellent hands of your commander. Good day, gentlemen." With that, Integra turned with an impressive swirl of charcoal satin and lace, and swept towards the door of the training facilities.

And somewhere in the vicinity of the basement, a thoroughly annoyed vampire attempted to flounce threateningly in a stylish crimson ball gown with black lace trimming and a wide bonnet. After three tries, he succeeded in breaking a heel and turning his ankle, smudging his mascara, and basically causing a certain other vampire endless amounts of carefully stifled amusement.


End file.
